


hounds will be hounds (and other tales of youth)

by jollypuppet



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Animals, Cute, Dog(s), Fluff, Other, Puppies, more puppies than you know what to do with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 16:36:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jollypuppet/pseuds/jollypuppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, nowadays, people look out their windows and see the old, gray fur of the German Shepherd as he makes his way along, and they smile fondly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hounds will be hounds (and other tales of youth)

**Author's Note:**

> Talking puppies!verse? I think so.

Beacon Hills isn't a big town. The houses are close and cozy, there's always a porch light to guide you home, and the people know each other well, happy and comfortable in an overwhelmingly warm sense of camaraderie and neighborliness that only comes from being so well-acquainted with one another. Even the police officers know names and faces, the grocers will swap inside jokes with customers, and things are just... nice.

Things are nice in Beacon Hills. And nobody knows that better than the dog.

If there's one thing that any self-respecting member of the Beacon Hills community knows, it's that the dog is here to stay, and that they like it that way. The dog roams the streets at night, his back curved and his snout low to the ground, and he patrols each street silently, like a ritual. Most people know that he wouldn't be able to do much in the face of danger -- he's getting old, after all -- but they like him being there, because it just contributes to the safe atmosphere.

There was once a time when the citizens were wary, even frightened, of the dog, when he first rolled into town, tired and limping and carrying the scruff of a small puppy between his teeth. Back then, they were afraid that he was rabid, or violent, and that he would attack or spread disease or, even worse, destroy gardens.

But then the daughter of one of the townsmen -- a banker, probably, or maybe a carpenter -- got lost one night and found herself at the town park in the late evening. Exhausted from crying and screaming, she had sat herself down near the tree in the middle of the park, and had fallen asleep.

When they had found her, the dog had been curled around her, securely, protectively, keeping her warm and safe in the dead of night. His pup had been snoozing on his back.

So, nowadays, people look out their windows and see the old, gray fur of the German Shepherd as he makes his way along, and they smile fondly. The dog doesn't have a name tag, and nobody has ever come into town to identify him, or pick him up.

But everyone's long since gotten tired of just calling him "the dog."

Instead, they watch him as he sits under a street light and stares diligently down the road. And they affectionately call him Sheriff.

\--

There are a lot of rumors as to where Sheriff lives. Nobody's adopted him or taken him in, that's for sure, so some people say that he lives in the nearby junkyard and forages for scraps with his son. Others say that he's something of a "backyard hopper," and that he'll maybe sniff at backdoors for a handout or two and then sleep silently in the grass until morning.

The latter rumor is sometimes (in extreme cases) true, but, for the most part, Sheriff likes to spend his nights with his pup, curled near the tall oak tree in the middle of the park.

Then, there's the matter of his pup. People don't know him as well as they know Sheriff, but he's still present, sometimes bumbling along beside Sheriff down the street, letting his father pick him up with his snout every time he falls. He yips quietly sometimes, but is for the most part placid, and likes to roughhouse with his father when they have the time. The little girl that Sheriff had watched over had gurgled about calling the little puppy Stiles, and, over the course of time, the name had just... stuck.

Those are the local mystery dogs. Sheriff and Stiles.

But the town itself isn't without its canine friends.

Jenny and her boyfriend Derek have two dogs of their own. They had adopted a black Collie and her puppy when she had been sick and slotted to be euthanized at the pound, but nowadays, she's much more healthy, though perhaps less spunky. Her son, though, is just as lively as ever. They call them Melissa and Scott, respectively, and of all the dogs in the park, Stiles likes to play with Scott the most, which tends to amuse Jenny when she's out jogging.

Sheriff and Melissa will normally lay out in the sun and relax while Scott and Stiles wrestle and tumble all over one another, but there are other puppies, too, like a Yellow Lab puppy that the Whittemores call Jackson. He's a lot stronger than both Scott and Stiles, though, and he likes to bite ears when he's bored (though gently, he's not all bad.)

Then there's a pretty Poodle who prefers to lay in the sun, much like the older dogs, that the Martins adopted to brighten up their home a bit. They call he Lydia, and she doesn't like to fight like the boys do, but prefers to watch them with wide, brown eyes.

And there's little Beagle Isaac and the pretty Golden Retriever Erica, and a bigger Bulldog by the name of Boyd, who mostly play amongst themselves, but sometimes like to join in all the fun that Scott and Stiles and Jackson have together.

Do they ever fight? Well, sometimes little scuffles break out, and sometimes Scott will start growling if Jackson's being too rough with Stiles, but for the most, the Mahealanis' big Bloodhound, Danny, will bark, loud and deep, to break up any trouble, as he sits calmly by the side of the oak tree. And yeah, pretty much nobody defies Danny.

(And besides, everyone in the park really likes Danny, but Jackson's the only one who's ever had the courage to sit by him or try to play with him. Danny's a really serious dog, but he's good-natured, and he'll sometimes paw at Jackson's head to appease him.)

Then the Argents move into town in the middle of winter, and with them, they bring their spunky, black Cocker Spaniel that they affectionately refer to as Allison. Allison's pretty shy at first, but she eventually works up the courage to spend time with Lydia, who, surprisingly, takes to her very quickly, and Scott especially likes to paw at her playfully and try to get her to join the fun. She likes him, which is a good, new dynamic to the park.

The park is where all the happiness of Beacon Hills comes to congregate, where all the people and all the dogs come to have fun after long days at work or school. Jenny and Derek will sit on a bench with Melissa and Sheriff nearby their feet (they've been considering taking Sheriff and Stiles in for a while now -- he tends to visit their backyard most often, anyway) and watch the puppies bowl over each other or pull at Danny's long ears.

But then, the forest fire happens.

\--

Beacon Hills is a relatively rural area, and there are trees all around, but it's not so hot to start a fire so easily, and the woods aren't that dry, either. But one night, during the summer, a wave of fire trucks roar down the street to stop a sudden outburst of flames engulfing the trees of the nearby woods.

It's concerning for most of the families, but not so much that they find the need to leave their houses. Jenny and Derek stay inside with Melissa and Scott, and they're eager to let Sheirff and Stiles spend the night. Some debris is blown into the streets, but nothing horribly serious happens, other than some pretty bad damage to the trees and... well, the firemen are sad to find some small bodies of animals.

Nobody notices a small, furry ball limp into the park, out from the flames and shivering in the dark, and nobody sees him huddle under the knot at the base of the oak tree. Nobody sees him all night, as he shivers and tries to sleep through his sorrow.

\--

Sheriff finds him the next day and growls, but he doesn't bark.

Sheriff likes to look after the people of Beacon Hills, but he's not disruptive, and this pup isn't a threat, it looks like. He sniffs him and smells smoke, and immediately feels pity for the little thing, having escaped the forest fire, no doubt. But he's not like the other puppies, and Sheriff figures that out immediately.

He's a wolf puppy.

That, however, doesn't stop Stiles from trying to make friends, like he normally does. He sniffs at the pup and nudges his rump with his snout, and he yips and bites at the little thing's ears, but the wolf puppy only growls and scoots out from under the knot in the tree, rearing his back up.

Sheriff growls and puts a paw in front of his son, but Stiles doesn't seem to take the hint, deciding instead to vault over it and towards the wolf, eagerly, panting. The wolf sits down, but his ears are still pointed straight up, and he's watching Stiles carefully.

"What's your name?" Stiles cocks his head, pawing excitedly at the ground to try and contain himself. He yips to try to get the wolf's attention, but it only lays its ears against the back of his head.

He doesn't want to talk, and Stiles doesn't blame him. He wouldn't either. He could have gotten hurt, Stiles is sure, but there's part of him that's glad the little wolf didn't.

Sheriff stands strongly over Stiles, and he eyes the wolf warily, but he doesn't make a move to bark or try to scare the puppy away. Stiles takes a few more pads forward, and the wolf doesn't back up.

He nuzzles his snout into the ground and lays himself down, solemnly. "We don't have names where I come from." The wolf puppy sighs through his nose and kicks up some dirt with the air, and Stiles yips in response. He lifts his head and rubs it against the underside of his dad's chest, and Sheriff takes the hint to leave them be.

In his stead comes bounding Scott, barking excitedly. Scott pulls at Stiles' ear. "Jackson and I are gonna race and Danny wants to take a nap, we need you to watch." Scott tugs on Stiles ear for a few moments more before noticing the new addition. His ears perk up.

"He doesn't have a name." Stiles paws at the ground and shoves his snout into the dirt, something like the little wolf puppy had, but his eyes are much more bright and playful, and his tail flaps back and forth behind him.

Scott barks. "He?" He nudges his nose against Stiles' side. "Jenny's boyfriend is named Derek. Let's name him Derek. Derek's good, right?"  
  
The wolf puppy doesn't move from where he is, but he scoots back a little bit with his hind legs, almost like he's slithering away. He doesn't want to leave, though, not now. Stiles yips from where he's still perched in the dirt, so it comes out a bit muffled, and Sheriff watches keenly from a distance.

Sheriff barks and Danny lifts his head from where he's laying in the sun, and the Bloodhound rolls over to see what the fuss is all about. He sighs through his nose and figures that it's nothing he needs to worry about, nothing he needs to get out of the sun for, anyway, but he decides to keep his eye on the three.

"Do you like Derek?" Stiles lifts his head and cocks it, and he scoots forward some to make up for the extra distance.

The wolf flaps its tail once, hard, against the grass behind him. His ears perk up, though, like he's listening. "I guess." Scott barks in excitement and runs over to sniff the wolf's ear. The new puppy -- Derek, apparently -- growls a bit, but allows the sudden presence in his space.

Stiles gets up and leans down so that his nose is almost touching Derek's. "So you came from the woods?" Derek keeps himself plastered to the ground, but lets himself get rolled over when Scott nudges at his side. Scott yips playfully and tries to wrestle with him.

Derek ends up where he was, only with Scott climbing all over him. "I have nowhere to go." Derek still doesn't look happy, but Stiles' eyes are bright with something promising, almost playful.

He licks Derek's nose and yips. "My dad and I came from far away. I think. It's been a while." Sheriff finally lets himself lay down, though he keeps his head up, watching Stiles. Danny is still collapsed on the ground, but vigilant. "So we're kind of like you."

Derek only stares at Stiles, paying no mind to Scott, who's still bumbling all over himself and kicking at a dandelion with his paws. Derek's eyes aren't as happy as Stiles' are, but they're still young and they still have spark in them. There's still enough room for him to be happy, and he's... hopeful.

Almost like he's embarrassed, his ears come down and he starts pawing at them, as if to get at an itch. But Stiles knows better, and he knows that Derek could easily become a friend.

So Stiles yips. "You're gonna like the dog park. I promise."

And it's a promise he intends to keep.


End file.
